But when Buttercup was well into the bag, the hag threw it over her back and strode off, and when they had gone a good bit of the way, the old hag got tired, and asked:
“How far is it off to Snoring?”
“Half a mile”, answered Buttercup.
So the hag put down the sack on the road, and went aside by herself into the wood, and lay down to sleep. Meantime Buttercup set to work and cut a hole in the sack with his knife; then he crept out and put a great root of a fir-tree into the sack, and ran home to his mother.
When the hag got home and saw what there was in the sack, you may fancy she was in a fine rage.
Next day the old wife sat and baked again, and her dog began to bark just as he did the day before.
“Run out, Buttercup, my boy”, said she, “and see what Goldtooth is barking at.”
“Well, I never!” cried Buttercup, as soon as he got out; “if there isn’t that ugly old beast coming again with her head under her arm, and a great sack at her back.”
“Under the kneading-trough with you and hide”, said his mother.
“Good day!” said the hag, “is your Buttercup at home to-day?”